


A Boy and His Car

by Ringside_Rebel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Future, Future Fic, Magic, Multi, Season/Series 04, The Jeep - Freeform, figuring out sexuality, jeep is a foxy lady, lots of Deep Talks, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ringside_Rebel/pseuds/Ringside_Rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every now and then, the pack would make fun of Stiles for pouring so much money into his run down Jeep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Boy and His Car

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I will finish this, I wrote it at the butt crack of dawn when I really should have been asleep.

Every now and then, the pack would make fun of Stiles for pouring so much money into his run down Jeep.

“Seriously, honey, that thing is an accident waiting to happen!” Allison called from the porch as Stiles inspected the car’s innards. His poor baby had been making a weird rattling noise every time he idled, and he really didn’t have any extra money to send her to the shop. As for his friends, the pack was hanging out for the day--no activities or training, just chilling and enjoying their last couple of weeks before their senior year of high school. A few of his so called friends yelled their agreement, reminding Stiles of the many times the Jeep had broken down on him.

“Remember the time we were taking that road trip to LA and the Jeep broke down in the middle of nowhere?”

“Or the time it nearly exploded during the Fourth of July picnic—the smoke blocked out the fireworks.”

“Oh, god, remember the noise it made that one time, when we were chasing after that ghost? Nearly sent the thing back to hell all on its own, with that racket it was making.”

“And how many times has my baby gotten your furry asses out of trouble, hmm?” He called back, wiping his sweaty forehead on his shirt. “I am half convinced she is the only this keeping us alive. That, and pure luck.” But mostly his baby.

Glancing back, the group shrugged lazily as a whole, before going back to their various states of not moving and hiding from the sun. Stiles was the only one who was doing much of anything at the moment, really. Erica and Boyd were cuddling against the Jeep, with Isaac and Allison sharing a magazine next to them in the grass. Jackson was sitting on the stairs a few feet away, passive aggressively trying to beat Danny’s near perfect Sushi Cat score (which Danny had admitted to hacking into his best friend’s cell and planting the score in there to infuriate the douche canoe) while tucked between Lydia’s legs as she read intently from an old tomb.

“Why _do_ you keep fixing that rust bucket up?” Erica asked, popping up to stand by Stiles.

“Sentimental value,” he grunted, working his hands deeper into the machine, hoping she would leave it alone. He wasn’t t _echnically_ lying—a skill he had gotten particularly good at over the last year, stupid werewolf hearing—the Jeep did mean a lot to him, but it was hard to explain to people who weren’t there when he bought it why he cared so much. He didn’t want anyone to laugh at him for not being able to give up a twenty year old used car.

“Leave him alone, Erica, at least he has a car,” Scott appeared with a case of sodas, passing them around to everyone as he chimed in. Sometimes Stiles wondered if Scott practiced that smile in the mirror or something. There was no way anyone could look that much like a puppy without trying. Or maybe Stiles just loved the dude too much, especially for saving his ass like that.

Erica clutched her chest in mock anger, crowing “How rude! You know I am saving up for college! I don’t have the cash to buy a car right now.”

“Or ever,” Isaac mumbled cheekily. He dodged Erica’s shoe and continued. “Anyway, why should any of us get our own wheels, with Stiles around, we don’t have to.” Isaac pointed out. He smiled his stupid perfect smile and took the soda offered to him by Scott.

“Our own taxi service.” Boyd added, smirking.

“Hardy har har,” Stiles rolled his eyes, albeit good naturedly. “I’ll remember that next time you losers need a quick getaway.”

“You should start charging,” Lydia suggested from her seat on the stairs. She was rarely ever in the Jeep, seeing how A) she had her own car and B) So did Jackson and Allison, so Stiles was fifty percent sure she was being serious with her suggestion. His friends started mock objecting, pleading for him to not take their money. He laughed loudly but didn’t comment, because the idea of asking for the pack to split gas money with him had crossed his mind on a number of occasions. Hey, he had to save up for college too!

Stiles plucked a piece of his engine out, inspected it, and was about to put it back, when Erica snatched it away. He was about to object, when she lean up on her tip toes and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I never did apologize for that, did I?” She murmured against his skin. She was smirking, but her eyes were warm. Stiles knew exactly what she was referring to, but before he could react she was skipping back to Boyd, stealing a soda from Scott before lying back down in the grass. He stared down at the car part now back in his hand, and huffs a laugh.

“Getting beat up by pretty girls is not really a hardship at this point. Not a perk exactly, but definitely something I don’t mind. Considering how often I get beat up either way.”

Erica laughed and Stiles put his car back together.

Scott came and leaned against the Jeep and watched Stiles work, waiting until he looked up to offer Stiles a coke. He took it gratefully and gulped down half of the can in one go.

Scott was uncharacteristically quiet while Stiles worked. It was hot enough for Stiles to forgo his usual layers for an old t-shirt, soft with use and stained from various misadventures.  A blood stain at his left hip from a rescue attempt gone wrong, paint splattered across his back from when the pack redecorated Derek’s loft, oil from the last few times he had to fix the jeep smeared across his stomach. He refused to get rid of it, it was an excellent shirt and it told a story, dammit, and Lydia could throw all the dirty looks she wanted he is keeping it _forever_. Right now Stiles was adding a fresh layer of sweat to his list of stains, the dry summer air blowing lazily around doing nothing to cool him down. The sticky oil coating his hands and forearms wasn’t helping either.

“Kinda sucks that you are getting so good at this,” Scott mumbled, watching Stiles’ hands work.

“How do you mean?” was his reply, only half listening as he decided that he should go ahead and check the torque converter valve, to see if that was the problem--as suggested by the dudes on the Jeep chat room he frequented. (There were quite a few old dudes impressed with him for keeping a Jeep this old in working condision.)

“You know,” Scott sighed, looking up at the fluffy, cotton candy clouds above, his posture relaxed and calm—which made Stiles relax as a reflex, like, he couldn’t relax unless Scott was relaxed too, and seeing Scott all calm calmed him down.

Considering all the danger they had been in together, he was probably getting a little codependent.

 “Food.” Derek yelled as he pulled up and hoped out of his Camaro, arms heavy with takeout.

“Finally,” Jackson grumbled, pushing up from the stairs to help carry food to the kitchen. The rest of the pack trailed after him, practically drooling as they went.

After the ‘Big Alpha Pack Take Down of 2013’ it was pretty hard to leave the Sheriff in the dark any longer. Honestly, he had pretty much connected all the dots; he just didn’t have the werewolf bit, which, admittedly, is pretty big, but still. Stiles’ dad is smart. He could tell something was up. And when the entire pack ended up in the hospital with major injuries after going missing for nearly a week, Stiles figured he had put the guy through enough. At this point, the lies were too much, and having his dad in the know would help future situations. If he even let Stiles stay in the pack—which he was still on the fence about, a fact he reminded Derek nearly every time he saw him. Derek helped, did his best to stay calm and answer all of the Sheriff’s questions. Somehow, it made Stiles and Derek almost friends. He thought maybe it helped, that after it all, he went to Derek to help him explain it all to his dad. He could have done it himself, or gone to Scott, even. But he went to his Alpha.

Which was a big leap, for both of them. So Stiles firmly put Derek in “Friends” box, and acted accordingly. They texted sometimes. Gave each other rides. Showed up at each other’s houses for spontaneous movie marathons. (Ok so that last one was mostly Stiles, but Derek had done it a few times while Stiles had the flu so it counts.)

Then there were days like today, were Derek came over and chatted easily with Stiles and Scott about the Jeep, even offering to look under the hood for Stiles after lunch.

As everyone filed into the house, Scott blurted, “If I hadn’t gotten bit, then maybe the Jeep would be in better shape,” before burying his face in Allison’s hair. Everyone froze, eyes pinned on Stiles. But Stiles was frozen too. After a moment, Derek kicked him, restarting Stiles’ brain.

“Dude!” He shouted, tugging at Scott until he was looking at him. “Dude.” He said softly, squeezing Scott’s shoulder reassuringly.

“The Jeep was a piece of shit in the first place.”

Everyone laughed and moved into the kitchen, easily reassured, but Scott held Stiles back. Allison hesitated around them, but Scott waved her off quickly.

Before Scott could say anything, Stiles whispered, “It is my fault you got bit, Scott. If it ruins my car—who cares? I ruined your _life_.” He had known, all this time, that if he hadn’t dragged his best friend out into the woods that night everything would be normal. They would just be two bros, skyping while playing WOW and teasing each other about crushes and practicing lacrosse together in the hope of becoming first line.

But a voice that sounds like his mom sometimes reminds him that he also wouldn’t have as many friends, and Scott would still have asthma, and Peter probably would have still bit someone and people still would have died and at least now he can _help._ Even if he is just the driver in the getaway car.

Scott could probably tell what he was thinking, he always did when it came to stuff like this, and closed the distance between them for a soul crushing hug. A hug that promised Stiles that it wasn’t his fault, and that they could both carry the blame if they had to—they would always be best friends, till the very end. And if Stiles started to tear up a bit because of it, who could really blame him? He was a sensitive guy.

“Who died.” The sheriff barked from the top of the stairs, only half joking as he hurried down to his son.

Stiles laughed, pulling away. He and Scott shared an easy smile for a brief moment, before Stiles turned to his dad.

“We were just talking about the Jeep. Looks like she’s on her last leg.”

The sheriff softened, putting an arm around Stiles’ shoulders comfortingly.

“I am sure we can find a way to fix her up, kiddo.” He assured. Scott nodded quickly and grinned. They got it. They were with Stiles when he bought the Jeep--they got it. She was special, he was sure of it. She had to be.

“Hey, losers!” Jackson yelled, “Get in here so we can eat already, I am fucking starving, Jesus Christ.”

With a wicked smirk, the Sheriff put on his best ‘Disappointed Dad’ face and marched into the kitchen and shouted, “Mr. Whitmore!”

The resulting yelp was enough to make Stiles forget The Car Issue for the time being and enjoy hanging out with the pack.

**______________________________________________________________** _  
_

_“Nокровитель, honey, wake up.”_

_…_

_“Nокровитель, baby, come look at what mommy found!”_

_Mommy? What is it?_

_“It’s mommy’s dream car, see? We could go anywhere in this baby.”_

_Anywhere?_

_“Anywhere, honey.”_

_Could we go far from here?_

_“hmm, I dunno…can we bring daddy too?”_

_Of course, mommy, don’t be silly. What would we do without daddy?_


End file.
